Angelina Jolie was worried about our passionate affair getting into the press, so I suggested starting a fake rumour about her and Brad Pitt as a distraction. Well, it worked I suppose. Sorry Jen.
Still, enough is enough and Angelina (or Lippy, as I like to call her) is getting far too serious. She kept wanting me to meet her Venezuelan orphans. Now I'm all in favour of having a hobby, but I'd rather collect Star Wars trading cards than traumatised children from battlezones. After all, you stand a chance of getting a full set of the former. So I'm going to have to tell her to cool it.
Meanwhile, I have also been busy with my new career as a masked crusader. You may have read about me in the Brighton Argus, for I am The Masked Massager. I stalk the streets at night looking for people being attacked by tenseness. Then I swoop and using my mutant power of Rubbing, alleviate the problem before melting into the night. I ask no thanks. But it would be great if they'd lift at least a couple of the restraining orders.
Let's be careful out there.
posted by Peter The Great @ 4:00 PM
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